StaffroomStuck
by angry-eevee
Summary: A Homestuck AU. A new term and a new headmaster at Skaia Secondary. With such an eclectic staff, everyone knows this year certainly has some shenanigans waiting to unfold.
1. A New Chief in Town

Also on Tumblr- staffroomstuck.

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><p>New Chief in Town<p>

"...And that is why you must always aim high, kids. Never let anyone tell you it's impossible – Nothing is impossible if you try your hardest, and have the support of your friends! Now, together, let's make this year the best ever for the school!"

The speech met with the usual feeling of slight bafflement from the new first years, bored apathy of the older students, and the brooding fury of Mr. Vantas, head of Film and Media Studies. The new headmaster seriously rubbed him the wrong way. It wouldn't be so bad if the bastard didn't spout his optimistic slurry with so much goddamn _conviction_. He really believed what he was saying, and that sickened Mr. Vantas to the pit of his stomach.

As the students began to file out of the Hall, Mr. Vantas tried to slip in behind some 5th years, as most of the little bastards were taller than him anyway. He was nearly home free, when –

"Mr. Vantas! Just the man I wanted to see!" Oh god, look at him. Square glasses that didn't even sit right on the man's nose and buck teeth that any prudent mother would have slapped braces on before the man grew up to look like a terminally enthusiastic bunny rabbit. How the hell did this idiot get to be headmaster? How the hell did he get to work in ANY educational sector? In the opinion of Mr. Vantas, he should have been quickly deposited behind the cash register of some desperately cheerful restaurant that specialised in carting huge amounts of ice-cream to screaming children, and spent his nights mopping up the resulting sick.

"Yes, Mr. Egbert?" The note of low menace was apparently ignored by the headmaster, and he put a companionable hand on the professor's shoulder.  
>"When you've got a minute, could you pop up to my office and see me before first period starts? Just a quick chat, I won't keep you long." The hand failed to burst into flames, despite the best efforts of Mr. Vantas' stare.<br>"Of course," He said through gritted teeth. The hand patted his shoulder once, and then was thankfully removed. The new headmaster ambled away down the corridor, grinning at students as he passed.

The door to the staff room clicked shut. Mr. Vantas would have preferred a slam, but sometimes doors have no sense of drama. Speaking of Drama...  
>"I seriously don't think I can fuckin' do it, Kan! Another year of watchin' talentless idiots prancin' about, thinkin' they're actors. Every day, I die a little inside!" Mr. Ampora was sprawled theatrically on the sofa, addressing Ms. Maraym, whose usual facade of calm benevolence was cracking slightly around the edges. The Drama professor waved a hand in a gesture of weary struggle, almost spilling the red and blue coffee cup on the table in front of him. It was pulled quietly out of range by Mr. Captor, who caught Mr. Vantas' eye and rolled his own.<br>"Think the new chief ith looking for you, Vantath." he lisped over Mr. Ampora's continuing tirade, grinning a little.  
>"I know, the bastard just cornered me in the hall." Mr. Vantas growled, purposely turning his back on the smug heterochromatic gaze, busying himself with making coffee in the staffrooms tiny kitchenette. If there was anyone he hated more than the bucktoothed excuse for a headmaster, it was that smarmy waste of skin the school employed as a Computer Sciences teacher. He made himself a black coffee and lounged against the counter, seeing as goddamn Ampora had taken up the whole sofa with his theatrics. Maybe if he wasted the fifteen minutes before first period, he could escape having to speak to –<p>

"Mr. Vantas!" A cheerful face had poked around the deceptively quiet staffroom door. Mr. Vantas nearly choked on the scalding coffee. How dare he come into the staffroom! It was sovereign territory of teachers, and a headmaster had no right invading their private sanctuary! He glanced at the others in the room, to see if anyone else had noticed this act of invasion. Ampora was still ranting to the glassy eyed Textiles teacher, Mr. Makara was staring out of the window, apparently mesmerised by the stunning view of the back of the art block, and Captor was looking straight at him with those freaky eyes of his. Grinning. Mr. Vantas swallowed the hot coffee.  
>"Yes?" he growled, voice laden with more chilly venom than cobra ice-cream.<br>"Just a word, please?" That bastard. Mr. Vantas put down his mug with an angry click, and followed the despised headmaster out of the staffroom. As the door swung shut, he could feel the mismatched eyes on the back of his neck. He really hated Captor.

Mr. Egbert smiled as Mr. Vantas slumped ungracefully in the chair, and sat down behind his desk. The room had changed, Mr. Vantas noticed, since the old headmaster had left. The walls were a light blue, the floor now carpeted rather than old wood. The chair he was sitting in was even comfy. On the desk, an assortment of stupid, cheap ornaments were arranged in what appeared to be a careful order. Mr. Vantas hated them.  
>"I won't keep you long, Karkat; I can call you Karkat can't I?" The headmaster grinned, "I feel that formality between co-workers just encourages bad feelings. I want you all to know, that even though I am, in a sense, the 'leader', I still hope to become friends with all my staff. I want you to know that this school is a group effort, and that my door is always open." Karkat tried to suppress a groan. He <em>really believed<em> it, it was maddening.  
>"What was it you wanted to see me about, <em>sir<em>?" The film teacher glared, skinny arms crossed over his torso, that today sported a t-shirt showing a rather angry looking crab. Makara had got it for him in last year's staffroom Secret Santa. He only wore it because the Religious Education professor was always far too spaced out to notice, letting him avoid the admittance that he secretly quite liked it.  
>"Yes, sorry, where was I? Forget my own head next!" Mr. Egbert said jovially. "Let me see, it's about your proposed selection of films this year..."<br>Karkat sat open-mouthed, while the headmaster burbled on about his needing more variety in genre, that his selection appeared to contain far too many romantic comedies to be a 'representation of the wonderful spectrum that is film today.' How DARE this idiot criticize his taste in film? Who was the goddamn PROFESSOR in the room? When the film "Con-Air" was mentioned as a 'Great and heart-warming example of the action genre', Karkat had to clench his fists to stop himself from screaming profanity at the man. Eventually the voice became white noise as Karkat slumped in his fury, and also in the goddamn comfy chair. Once he judged the idiots mouth to have stopped moving long enough to signal that he had ceased his blasphemous drivel, Karkat forced a smile that was frankly disturbing.  
>"A very interesting point, <em>sir<em>, and I will be sure to take it into consideration. Now, if there's nothing else?" Mr. Egbert grinned at him again, and waved a hand.  
>"No, that's all. Off you go, Karkat. Great to have this chat."<br>This time, the door _did_ slam.


	2. Security

Security

Storm clouds filled Karats' mind as he returned to the staffroom to pick up his laptop. He could not believe that bucktoothed bastard, trying to tell him how to do his job. He went to the table where he had flung down his bag earlier in the day. It wasn't there. Karkat stared at the blank space a moment, and then spun around. Only Mr. Makara and Miss. Pyrope were in the staffroom at this time, both their classes starting later. He turned on the Law teacher, knowing that it would take a goddamn miracle to get a straight answer out of Makara.  
>"Terezi, have you seen my laptop ba-oh, shit..." The blind woman raised an eyebrow at him, smirking.<br>"Smooth, Karkat. Always a charmer." She laughed. Karkat put his hands over his face and groaned. Despite her disability, Miss Pyrope was one of the best in her subject, having retired from the bar to teach. She was also very popular with her students, as she never set written work.  
>"Sorry, sorry. Fuck. I had to talk to the goddamn new headmaster earlier and..." Terezi waved a hand.<br>"Don't worry about it. But _no_, I don't know where your bag is. Ask Gamzee." Karkat turned to the RE teacher, glaring.  
>"Bag?" Gamzee came down from whatever cloud his mind was currently dicking about on, and pointed to the sofa that had recently been the stage to Mr. Ampora's theatrics. The laptop bag was leaning against the arm.<br>"Right there, my little angry brother." He smiled broadly, his unkempt black hair hanging over his eyes.  
>"Shut up." Karkat grabbed the bag and strode out of the room, face burning. As the door clicked shut again, Terezi laughed into her coffee.<p>

"Shut up and sit down" said Karkat as he entered his classroom. He knew his cheeks were still a little red after that embarrassing incident in the staffroom, but this class were his 5th years, and they knew him well enough not to make a sound when the professor was in one of these moods. As the class settled, Karkat took out his laptop and fumbled with the attachments that would link it to the overhead projector. He'd stick some scenes on for the class to analyze and die quietly in his chair. "At least," he thought sardonically, "the morning can't get any worse."

Sollux sat with his feet on his desk, one hand behind his head.  
>"Can anyone tell me the dangerth of leaving your computer unattended?" He pointed lazily at a raised hand. "Yeth?"<br>"Someone could steal it?" Sollux nodded at his student.  
>"Yeth, they could, but in a plathe where you might encounter thaid thief every day, there ith a much more elegant method of theft. Anyone know what that is?" He browsed the hands again. "Nicole?"<br>"They could download a keylogger?" The student grinned as the professor gave her a thumbs up.  
>"Never leave your thtuff around for other people to pith about with, thame goes for leaving your email open in a public plathe. There will allwathe be some bathtard around who will theriousthly meth your thtuff up. Let'th see a practical exthample, thall we?"<p>

"All right, we're going to be analyzing camera technique in the wedding scene we looked at last week. Take notes, expect questions." Karkat clicked on the video file, and slumped down in his chair with his fingers pressed into his eyeballs. He was so sunk in misery, it took him a few seconds to realise that the students in front of him were sniggering. In fact, it had gone beyond sniggering now, there was definite laughter happening. He moved his hands from his eyes, and turned very slowly in his chair, horror making the world appear to be moving at half speed. On the screen, the clip playing was not the one he had prepared. Defiantly not. Animated muscles bulged on the anthromorph horses that seemed to fill Karats' world. Other things bulged too. The laughter in the class had risen to such a level he could no longer hear the slimy background music as the creatures writhed on the huge projector screen. Karkat finally let out a strangled scream, and frantically tried to exit the video player. Nothing happened, his laptop wouldn't respond. Behind him, the speakers on the wall emitted a low bellow. Panicking, Karkat leant round and pulled the cables that connected his laptop to the projector, and the noises of man-horses in the throes of pleasure stopped. Unfortunately, the laughter of his students did not.  
>At times of great stress, the mind has a distressing tendency to pick up on little, irrelevant details, possibly to escape from the current reality. Karkat's mind, in a mad attempt to exit a world where his class were in hysterics over his inadvertent showing of anthro-horse smut, noticed the green light next to the little camera that signalled his webcam was transmitting. A conversation window popped up, and the mustard yellow text that he knew belonged to the perpetrator bored into his eyeballs.<br>"problem, vanta2?"

Sollux's classroom echoed with laughter as he cut off the webcam channel he had projected on the screen behind him, showing a parting shot of the enraged face of Mr. Vantas.  
>"Tho, clath. You thee how eathy it ith for thomone with the knowhow to get on to your perthonal computer, actheth your fileth and thet up an on-command thtream to your webcam?" He pushed his glasses up his nose, mismatched eyes flicking down to the angry wall of grey text that was filling the chat window with profanities. He grinned to himself, typing- "the real video cliip ii2 iin your porn folder, dumba22". Sollux knew that Karkat had a porn folder on his work laptop, because he had placed it there himself this morning, having a few free minutes after setting up the camera stream while Karkat was talking to the Headmaster. All the clips in it were named "2exyhor2etiime" 1-9, and he considered telling Vantas exactly which one was the clip from his dumb movie. "Nah," he thought, tossing his memory stick up in the air and catching it. "I've been nithe enough jutht telling him where it ith."<p> 


	3. Division

Division

"Okay, class!" the woman grinned, and it wasn't entirely friendly. Students closer to the front might have noticed that her left eye didn't move in the same way her right did, and was a slightly different hue – since they were 1st years, they had not yet experienced Miss. Serket's favourite trick of popping out her eye and looming behind a student she feels wasn't paying attention. She ran a thin hand through her long blond hair, and then pointed at a nervous looking boy in the front row.  
>"You! What's your name?"<br>"R-Rufus, miss."  
>"Great! Okay Rufus, tell me what you know about long division." She listened with half an ear to the stuttering answer, but in truth the question hadn't been all that important. She treated the Mathematics room as her own little church, and the first order of the day was to instil the Fear of Vriska into these wet behind the ears supplicants. After the boy had spoken for about thirty seconds, she cut in over him.<br>"Thanks, Rufus. Now, seeing as you're all such geniuses, we'll do a little test so I can get a feel where everyone is, ability wise." She smirked as the class groaned in unison, and she was pleased to see a few dark glances shot at the luckless Rufus. She sighed happily as she began handing out the papers. It was going to be a good year.

Mr. Nitram rubbed his eyes.  
>"Uh, so, <em>no-one <em>has done the homework I set over summer? Uh, guys, it was kind of important..." He looked sadly at his 3rd years. Most of them didn't even bother looking back at him. "Well, I need you to get it to me by Friday, okay?" He sighed. "Okay, everyone get out your copy of-"  
>The door opened, and a flustered girl slipped quickly into the classroom.<br>"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Nitram." She slung her bag down and began riffling through it.  
>"That's ok. Try to be on time, please." He raised his eyebrows as the latecomer thrust a slightly crumpled wad of paper at him. He wheeled over to her desk and took it.<br>"What's this?"  
>"My creative writing homework?" The girl looked worried. Mr. Nitram's face broke into a wide smile.<br>"Oh! Uh, thank you!" He piloted his wheel chair back to the front of the class, spirits raised a little. Maybe if at least _one_ student remembered her homework, he wasn't a total failure as a teacher.

After class, Mr. Nitram retired to the staffroom to mark the piece he had been given. Mr. Vantas and Mr. Captor appeared to be having a loud argument in the kitchenette, so he parked his wheelchair at the table by the window. He put his bag on the floor, and rolled his eyes with a smile as he noticed a doodle of a clown face in some spilt coffee. Gamzee. He liked the RE professor, he didn't make him as nervous as some of the other staff. He was quietly reading the students story when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.  
>"Hello, Tav. Good first lesson?" said an amused sounding voice behind him. Tavros winced, and turned his head. Vriska grinned down at him.<br>"Uh... yeah. It was ok..." He flinched as the woman swept round and sat gracefully in the chair next to him. She could move like a spider, Tavros thought. One second she was still, the next she was leaning with an arm draped over the chair back, her one good eye focused on him from behind her round glasses. Vriska had been at the school much longer than him, and as far as he could tell the mathematics teacher was given a cautious berth by the other, more experienced staff. Unluckily, she took a 'shine' to Tavros on his first day, and since then had taken every opportunity to speak to him. The woman made him nervous – there was always a slightly mocking edge to her voice, and she went out of her way to be more cautious of his wheelchair than was really necessary, holding open doors for him before he was even halfway down a corridor. This embarrassed him so much that once or twice he had wheeled through a door he had no prior intention of going through, leading to his getting very lost in the first few months he taught there. He wasn't sure what he had done to provoke Miss. Serket; maybe simply being himself was enough.  
>"3rd years are always a handful, aren't they? Too old to be nervous, too young to be focused. Bitch of a year group." She winked, an unsettling gesture as it left only the unfocused glass eye pointing at Tavros. Tavros nodded, frantically hoping the woman would go away so he could read his students work.<br>"They're... they're good kids at heart. It just takes a little to, uh, motivate them..." He faltered in the face of the math teachers snide grin.  
>"See, that's exactly why you can't control a class, Tavvy. When you've been teaching as long as I have, you'll realise that despite one or two decent kids, the majority are lazy, conniving little bastards." Tavros winced; he disliked swearing and didn't like Vriska describing the students in that way. It didn't seem professional, or fair. She ignored him, continuing. "The best thing to do is make sure they know you're not to be messed about. Better have the reputation of bitch than be known as a pushover. They'll spot weakness, and walk all over you." Tavros wondered if he had imagined the slight emphasis on the word 'walk', or if he was just feeling rattled. Vriska grinned again, and flicked her eye to the work still held in his hands.<br>"But I mustn't keep you! Looks like you've got _lots_ of marking to do." And she was suddenly out of her seat and walking towards the kitchen, one hand on her hip.


	4. The Shipping Game

The Shipping Game

Miss Lejion always seemed to be in some sort of rush. Beads clattered as she hurried up the length of her classroom, coming to a halt in front of the board with a bright jingle of bangles. She grinned broadly, and whipped off the knitted hat, decorated with a smiley cat face and little pointed ears, revealing her wild bob of red hair.  
>"Hello! Everyone have a wonderful summer?" Her class made vague affirmative noises; the Art teacher's enthusiasm could be a little trying second period on a Monday morning. Miss Lejion clapped her hands together with a clink of rings, long fingernails painted a dark green. "Excellent! I hope you guys found some time to work on your portfolios; I can't wait to see how everything is coming along!" At this subtle queue, students began taking out their folders and workbooks, some with less enthusiasm than others. Nepeta Lejion smiled to herself. This term was her favourite, and she had been preparing carefully.<br>"Right! As I told you before the holidays, this term we will be working on portraiture. I've picked some names out of a hat, and I will now tell you your partners!" At the protest that emerged from the class, Nepeta held up a finger. "No, no, no, no! It's important that everyone doesn't just pick their best friends; this is all about _really_ examining another person's features! If it's a face you see ALL the time, you can get lazy and not pick out everything! So hush! Right, Alex, you're with..."  
>While Nepeta hadn't been lying about the tendency to skip details of a familiar face, she had other motives behind her "random" selection of partners. Every teacher plays little games with their classes, and Nepeta's favourite was what she called the Shipping Game. As third years took portraiture in their autumn term, Miss Lejion had a pretty good idea of each student's crushes, secret admirers and possible partnerships that just needed that little push. So Nepeta made careful notes of each budding relationship she spotted, and she was <em>good<em> at spotting them, and made sure that the partners for portraiture were selected according to who fancied whom. After a term of carefully examining each other's faces, most of her predicted relationships were certainly moving along. Of course, she wasn't 100% accurate, and sometimes the partnerships exploded horribly, but that was all part of the game. All the planning was worth it; a quiet boy Nepeta had partnered with the student he had been giving longing looks at for the past two years gave her a tiny, grateful smile, blushing to his roots.  
>As the class moved to sit with their new partners, Nepeta wrote up the first task on the board. Then she sat down and retrieved her laptop from its bag, eager to update her shipping chart. As she logged in, the staff chat popped up, showing dark blue text. She grinned happily as she read;<p>

"D - I have been informed that you have free period after the current. Would you perhaps come to the Staffroom to take coffee with me?"

She tapped out a reply confirming coffee with Equius. For no discernible reason, she and the Design Technology teacher had hit it off as soon as they met. It would be difficult to find two people more different – He a very formalised man, private school accent and manner, and a tendency to lose his cool very easily, she the eclectic product of a rebellious childhood, and in a state of near permanent optimism. They had come to work at Skaia Secondary at around the same time, and had become fast friends without missing a beat. Nepeta sometimes wondered if there was something more to their relationship, but in all honesty she thought of the man more like an older brother, despite their similar age. Besides, it wasn't just the students relationships Nepeta kept a close watch on, and her best friends shy glances towards the head of History, Miss. Megiddo, had not gone un-noticed. Sadly, the history teacher was much harder to read. Sometimes she seemed to have no emotions at all...

As break approached, Miss Megiddo raised her milky blue eyes from her desk. The class was silent at the moment, heads bent over textbooks, but she knew that as soon as there were less than ten minutes left of the lesson her students would become restless. There was no clock in the room, but she had always had an uncanny grasp of time.  
>"Five minutes to answer the questions, students." Her voice was flat, despite her perfect enunciation, and always seemed to be coming from some distance away. As she had predicted, the murmurs began, and she busied herself with tidying away her things. It would take this class around five minutes to go from working to packed up and ready to be dismissed, and the bell would ring in just over ten. She prided herself in never having the students stay later or leave earlier than the bell. "Leave your papers on your desks and I will collect them."<br>As the last backpack was zipped up and slung onto a shoulder, the bell rang. Miss Megiddo nodded to her class, and they left, chatting quietly. Even the rowdiest students were quieter in Miss Megiddo's classes- the woman's hushed manner seemed to leak into her students without their realising. As she collected the papers, a movement at the window caught her eye. Dark blue boiler suit, slightly open to reveal a vest. As soon as her eyes fell on him, Mr. Zahhak lowered his head and walked away smartly.

Bangles chimed as Nepeta waved enthusiastically to Equius. Two mugs of coffee had already been set on the table; one adorned with what might have been cats before they were exposed to near-terminal amounts of glitter and adorableness, the other a surprisingly dainty china cup, or what was once- it had been glued and repaired many times, causing the motif of running horses to take on an Escher-esque quality. They chatted amicably about Nepeta's matchmaking and how Equius had broken another circular saw, when what sounded like a battle cry rang out through the halls. It started with one voice, but slowly grew in volume as more and more voices took it up, with an undertone of running feet. Nepeta looked at Equius, open mouthed. He cleared his throat.  
>"I would cautiously suggest that we remain in here until whatever is happening... stops happening..."<p> 


	5. Crusade

Crusade

_Sometime in the past, but not far..._

"Good MORNING!" Mr. Makara bounded into the classroom, all gangly legs, un-tucked shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos, braces and tie in an obnoxious purple. He slid to a halt, and sat down on the edge of his desk, beaming at his class. "And how are all you little miracles today?" He spread his arms, grinning widely. "Ready to be getting your learning on up in here?"

Mr. Strider gave his class a nod once everyone was seated.  
>"'Sup. You guys know the drill. We'll be looking at Free Composition after the break."<br>The work was already written up on the board behind him. He didn't need to tell his class what to do; they knew. Nor did he feel the need to schlep the traditional, bullshit questioning about their holidays. One, he didn't really care, and two, it was their own damn business. He adjusted his shades. Thank god the summer was fading- harsh sunlight played merry hell with his skin and eyes.  
>He gazed at his laptop screen. The staff chat was blinking at him- Technically, it wasn't supposed to exist; Captor set it up, and Mr. Strider doubted very much that the new Headmaster knew about it. The old Head didn't either- and just as well. Mr. Noir was a vicious bastard, in Mr. Striders opinion, and the school was all the better for his leaving.<br>He sighed, and clicked on the little box that informed him Miss Serket required his attention.

"Hey Dave! Me and Eridan are gonna 8e heading to Wrath and Angels tonight. Fancy it? :::;)"

He groaned inwardly. An evening with the psychopathic bitch of a Maths teacher and the biggest drama queen to ever claim to have a penis? No thanks.

"naw, got things to be attending. thanks for the offer though vris. ask kan- she's seems all kindsa uptight recently."

He thought briefly about the Textiles teacher. Sure, she was hot; with hips and breasts like those one could overlook the formality of voice and (not to put too fine a point on it) sharpness of jaw. But all the staff knew she had a thing for girls, and a big thing for the head of Psychology in particular. No matter her sexual orientation, Kanaya Maryam was a rock- a point of sanity in the turbid rapids that went by the name of Secondary and 6th Form education. But she'd been a little off this morning, deep green eyes focused elsewhere while Ampora whined to her, and if Dave Strider knew anything, it was how to judge disaster before it happened.  
>He was so preoccupied in his musings that he didn't even know about the tidal wave of madness approaching his classroom before it hit.<p>

"Right! Today, we're gonna be all up and learning about the Crusades and their influence on modern perceptions of Christianity." Gamzee pulled his bag up onto his lap. "But you miracle-children all know me, and ya'll know I know that'd be mothe- mighty boring, just me talking at you and sh- stuff. "So, we're gonna be all up in our practical learning zone. Now," he pulled out a bottle of orange faygo from his tattered purple rucksack, "line up, an' get ready to get your mo-mighty frickin' sanctified on."  
>The class giggled to each other as they formed a line in front of their beaming RE teacher. Everyone knew that Mr. Makara's practical lessons tended to end in the class standing around, grinning, while another teacher shouted at him for making too much noise or, on one memorable occasion, getting purple paint all over the windows of the Science block.<br>Gamzee crossed his legs under him on his desk, and motioned the first student forward.  
>"Right. My name is Pope Urban the Second, and I am hereby blessing you all as Crusaders against the Muslim tribes." He unscrewed the lid of the faygo and dipped a long finger into the liquid, before reaching out and drawing a cross on the student's forehead. He grinned lazily and raised a hand as the student went to wipe the soda from her face. "No nonononoooo Claire! That is the Lords water, that is! Can't be washing away a mark left by the most Mirthful of Messiahs!" He winked. The girl blushed, lowered her hand, and went to stand behind Gamzee's desk as the next student came forth to be anointed.<p>

The chat icon blinked again.

"Awwww that's sad! ::::( I'll miss yoooooooou!"

Dave ironically smiled, but internally; any outward emotion would break his air of cool.

"Allrighty! It's 1095. The Byzantine Emperor Alexis the First has sent ambassadors to ask for some help at the Council of Piacenza earlier this year. I, all up in my Popely self, have called all you blessed Christians to get your war on against the Turks. First order of business, we're gonna be setting up the first of our four miracle Crusader States on the Syrian coast!"

There was the sound of quiet concentration in the music room. Some students were using the keyboards with headphones, some just writing up their personal compositions. Dave did not presume to interfere – Music, he knew, was a personal business.

"Are we all ready to get our Righteous War on, my miracle-children?"  
>The class stood in grinning ranks before the professor, who was sitting on his desk, one leg hanging and the other perched on the edge, knee near his ear. The rumpled suit trousers were hitched up on said leg, revealing purple converses and the top of some clown print socks. The class chorused something along the theme of "yes sir", and Gamzee sprung up. He opened the cubbord at the back of the room that usually held mouldering textbooks. Morning sunlight glinted off lines of cans.<br>"Everyone grab one and follow me! We do the Lords work!"

Ms. Lalonde was just leaving the cafeteria with her morning granola bar and cup of chai tea when the screaming started. It was close, and modulated with giggling and running feet. She turned a corner and was nearly swept over in the sudden stampede. Regaining her composure, she watched Mr. Makara, followed by his students like the tail of a comet, tear down the corridor, out of the double doors and towards the music block. Each student was holding what appeared to be an aerosol can. The Psychology teacher raised a thin blond brow.  
>"Fascinating."<p>

"Blasphemous Infidel! Do you surrender unto my lord, the most Mirthful of Messiahs?" Dave raised his head, looking at the RE teacher from behind his shades.  
>"Makara, what the hell do you think you're doing in my classroom?" he said evenly. Gamzee grinned inanely and pulled two cans of silly string from his trouser pockets.<br>"Claiming the East in the name of our Lord!" The music students had all ceased their composition, looking at the near-deranged figure of the Religious Studies teacher, who was grinning like a loon. Whatever a loon was, he was certainly the dictionary definition on how one grinned.  
>"Makara, I swear to god, if you spray paint clown faces on the piano again I will neuter you."<br>"Your barbed tongue is all up and having no effect on me, ungodly scum! I will take this classroom in the name of God! This is the First Crusade, motherfucker!"  
>And as Gamzee shouted the last profanity, his students poured in from the door behind him, silly string flying. He stood in the middle of the anarchy, laughing like a madman, until Mr. Strider rugby tackled him to the floor, and the two brawling men were covered in a spiders web of colourful foam strings.<p> 


	6. Wrath and Angels

Wrath and Angels

"You really are a dumbass, Makara." Karkat sat opposite the RE teacher, who was holding an ice pack to his eye. Midday sun and the noise of students having their lunch break filtered in through the staffroom window. "You're just lucky Strider is even _more_ of a dumbass and feels reporting you wouldn't be _cool,_ even ironically. What the hell were you thinking?" Gamzee smiled blearily, putting the ice pack on the table.  
>"Hey, you know me, motherfucking best friend. Thinking ahead 'aint something I'm all up and bothered about."<br>As Karkat placed his hands over his face, grumbling obscenities, the door opened and Tavros wheeled in awkwardly, getting briefly tangled with the door frame. The English teacher smiled bashfully at the pair at the table, but when he spotted the large bruise already forming under Gamzee's eye, his expression twisted up into, in Karkat's view, unnecessary horror and concern. Gamzee just grinned.  
>"Oh... uh... how did you... are you, uh, ok G-Gamzee?" Karkat rolled his eyes at the stutter, but without any real ire. It was impossible to dislike Mr. Nitram. It would be like disliking a puppy, or some other gormless baby creature, which the man resembled at times. Gamzee smiled, getting out of his chair and going over to Tavros.<br>"Scars of battle, Tavbro!" He took the handles of the wheel chair and piloted it over to the table. Tavros blushed – he was perfectly capable of wheeling himself, but he knew that Gamzee was just trying to be nice. Karkat nodded at him.  
>"The fuckass got into a fight with Strider over in Music," He snarled, which only increased the worry on Tavros' face.<br>"Oh! Wh-what over?" Mr. Makara grinned, and Tavros noticed that his mouth was ever so slightly too wide for his face. He then decided that was a strange thing to be noticing, and tried to stop, blushing a little.  
>"Well, Alexis the First asked my motherfucking Popeship to get my war on, see?" Tavros obviously didn't see, so Karkat chimed in.<br>"He was _supposed_ to be teaching his class about the Crusades. He _actually_ armed them with silly string and burst into Striders' classroom." Mr. Nitram's mouth formed an O of disbelief, before gradually descending into giggles as Gamzee gave him a wink. It was insane, Karkat thought, but the madman's unconventional teaching methods actually yielded him one of the top exam pass rates in the school. He'd actually grown up with the man, and, Karkat recalled, he had _always_ been a nutjob. The idiot had been a Juggalo in his youth, which explained his still present fondness for that disgusting swill he drank, and the rather disturbing tattoos that littered his body. Weren't people supposed to mature when they became adults? Then he thought about Captor's prank earlier, and scowled.  
>Gamzee and Tavros were chatting, which consisted of mostly Gamzee talking in that strange, slow drawl of his, when raised voices signalled the arrival of Miss. Serket and Mr. Ampora. The pair bickered constantly, but she was the only one who seemed willing to put up with his theatrics.<br>A slow, nasty grin stretched over Vriska's face when she spotted the now silent Tavros, and she was suddenly on his side of the room, leaving Mr. Ampora talking to the air for several seconds, the drama teacher being too self-absorbed to notice her departure right away. He scowled as he tramped over after her.  
>"Tavros! I'm glad I've found you. A few of us are going out for drinks later on. You'll come, wont you?" Before Tavros could stutter out a reply, she slapped him on the back. "Great! What about you two?" She turned on Gamzee, who's grin was slowly fading as he saw how uncomfortable Tavros was, and Karkat, who made a face. She winked at Gamzee when she noticed his black eye. "Don't worry; Strider can't make it."<br>Gamzee shrugged, and raised his eyebrows at Karkat, who put his chin on his hands.  
>"I have plans tonight, Vriska." He said, knowing full well his plans consisted of curling up on the sofa and watching one of his romantic movies with a take away. Besides, it was Monday night, and he had morning classes, and to be frank he couldn't stand the Maths Professor.<br>Gamzee looked at Tavros questioningly. Mr. Nitram was panicking a little. He didn't want to go, but he knew there was no way he could tell Vriska that now, and not showing up would most likely lead to her increasing the regularity of her torture of him. But it would be okay if Gamzee went, right? He looked at the RE teacher, hoping the man was firmly enough on this planet to note the pleading in his eyes. His prayers were answered.  
>"Sure, my numerical-miracle sister. Can't be staying out too long though." He gave Tavros a reassuring little smile. Tavros had to restrain an audible sigh of relief. It couldn't go <em>too <em>badly if Gamzee was there. He was certain. Kind of. Uh... could it?

Turns out it could.  
>Wrath and Angels was a ridiculously snobbish place, all sparkling glass and monochrome furniture. Tavros felt very out of place, but then, Tavros felt out of place in his own bedroom. Gamzee, on the other hand, seemed to be perfectly comfortable, even though Tavros could see his faded ICP t-shirt and baggy black jeans were drawing disapproving looks from the clientele, who appeared to mostly dress like Eridan- in fact, Mr. Ampora was already engrossed in conversation with two other men in similar attire by the bar when Gamzee and Tavros arrived together, having agreed to share a taxi. The other "few" that Vriska had mentioned turned out to be Miss Peixes, Ms. Maryam and Ms. Lalonde. The three ladies were seated on a sofa, which Gamzee wheeled Tavros over too. Tavros was slightly shocked at Miss Peixes casual attire – He had only ever seen the Political Sciences teacher in a respectable work suit, occasionally with a brighter purple shirt under her blazer, and tasteful, matching jewellery, but the woman before him wore so many colours he was sure people around her too long must get a headache. Beads clattered as she waved at the approaching men, glittering like a starling. Ms. Lalonde and Ms. Maryam were dressed more conventionally, if a little formally, in well cut purple and jade coloured dresses respectively. Kanaya looked a little distant, Tavros noticed.<br>"Hey! That evens up the gender numbers a little!" Miss Peixes giggled, "Poor Eridan, he'll be so disappointed he doesn't get to spend the night with just us girls!" From behind him, Tavros heard Gamzee chuckle, and felt long fingers tousle his hair.  
>"Whatcha drinking, Tavbro?" Tavros put forward the idea that maybe he might like, uh, a beer, if it wasn't any trouble, and Gamzee looked at the seated ladies. "How about you chicas? Can't be lettin' ya'll getting your thirsty on." After taking the orders, (A Sea Breeze for Miss Peixes, a red wine for Ms. Lalonde and lemonade for Ms. Marayam) Gamzee turned and headed for the bar. Miss Peixes smiled at Kanaya.<br>"Are you driving, dear?" Kanaya looked up, seemingly taking a fraction of a second too long to answer.  
>"Oh, no Feferi. I am just not in the mood for alcohol this evening." Kanaya always seemed to speak as if she was dictating, but even so her words seemed a little forced. Tavros saw Ms. Lalonde's hand move briefly over the hand of the Textiles teacher, and give it a gentle squeeze. Feferi's smile became confused for a moment, but then turned her attention to Tavros. He felt slightly awkward – he had never really spoken to the Politics professor, their timetables meaning they taught at different times, but she seemed nice enough. Ms. Lalonde, too, was always friendly when he had spoken to her, but had the thousand mile stare that anyone who studies psychology seems to acquire. He was slightly worried about Kanaya, too. She was never the loudest of people, but there was something pained about her that he hadn't seen before. But what worried him the most was that there was no sign of Vriska, which meant she could be <em>anywhere...<em>


	7. Fortify

Gamzee leant on the bar, waiting to be served. Motherfucker wasn't in a hurry. His eyes, always sleepy looking, scanned the bar; Eridan was still with his group, who were talking about a band Gamzee had never heard of, but he didn't seem too interested. Instead, he kept throwing longing glances over to where Tavros and the ladies were sitting. When he noticed Gamzee, he excused himself and walked over, his usually arrogant gait slightly subdued, and he briefly rebounded off another customer. He muttered an apology, and slipped next to Gamzee, who gave him a friendly, if slightly spaced smile.  
>"You gettin' a round in, Gam?" Eridan adjusted his scarf. Gamzee had no idea why the man needed to wear a scarf indoors.<br>"S'ight bro, for Tav and the chicas. Why, you want one?" Eridan shook his head and raised his own half full glass.  
>"Uh, what's Fef drinkin'?" The drama master looked unusually flustered. Gamzee raised an eyebrow.<br>"Sea Breeze, bro." Eridan nodded, and mouthed the name to himself, as if taking a mental note.  
>The bartender finally deigned to notice Gamzee, and went about getting the drinks. Set on the bar top, Gamzee performed some hazy mental arithmetic, and decided that in the hand to glass ratio he had been found wanting. He tapped Eridan's shoulder, jarring the man out of whatever reverie he had sunk into.<br>"Wanna help me carry these?" Eridan looked at him, then back at the table, and then started to blush.  
>"Uh, I'm gonna order, but I'll watch them, ok?" He said quickly. Gamzee shrugged, and picked up Kanaya and Feferi's drinks, before hooking his little finger around the stem of Ms. Lalonde's wine glass. He smiled to himself. Good thing a brother learnt the miracle of juggling.<br>"Keep an eye on mine and Tavbro's, kay? I'll be right back." As he wandered back to the table, Eridan nodded absently, eyes darting back and forth between the floor and the colourful beacon that was Miss. Peixes.

Vriska was in a bad mood. A boy she had been chatting to had won himself a stiletto heel in the foot for calling her Ma'am. God, she didn't look old! Who the hell did he think he was?  
>She wound her way back towards the bar, where Eridan was still standing with a stupid, glazed expression. She elbowed him hard in the ribs when he didn't look at her.<br>"Hey! Earth to Mr. Ampora? Any sign of intelligent life?"  
>"What? Oh, hi, Vris." He motioned the drinks behind him. "Gamzee and Tavros are here. 'm watchin' their drinks." Vriska raised a brow.<br>"Looks like you're watching something altogether different to _me._" She punched him in the shoulder, slightly too hard to be totally friendly._ "_Just _talk_ to her, for god's sake, and stop hiding by the bar. Coward." He glared at her.  
>"Yeah, well, it ain't that simple." Vriska scoffed, and turned her eyes on the drinks Eridan was supposedly watching. A beer, and what looked like some foul faygo concoction. A grin started to spread over her face. Wouldn't take a genius to figure out which one was Mr. Nitrams...<p>

Gamzee placed the drinks down in front of their respective owners. The conversation had turned to favourite students, and he smiled softly to see Tavros join in, talking about a girl who had apparently written a wonderful piece of Creative Writing over the summer. He squeezed the man's shoulder, causing him to stutter slightly.  
>"Be right back with ours, Tavbro. Gotta serve the chica's first, manners and all that."<p>

Vriska had set the shot glass on the table just as Gamzee arrived back, and gave him a big, honest smile. Gamzee returned it lazily.  
>"'sup, my mathematical-miracle. Gonna join us?" She shook her head.<br>"Nah, someone has to look after Eridan." Before the drama teacher could protest this, he received a swift kick in the ankle.  
>The smile remained as she watched Gamzee take the glasses and head towards the table. The night looked like it was going to be getting interesting. At least, it would certainly be interesting for Tavros, and she kept her eye on the pint she had quietly fortified with a double shot while Eridan had his own eyes elsewhere.<p>

Three drinks later, and Tavros wondered blearily if he should have stopped at one. He was usually fine after three, and he had no idea why he was feeling so odd. The beer _had_ tasted kind of strong, to his limited experience, but since Gamzee had insisted, well, offered really, to buy them, he couldn't pluck up the courage to tell him he was feeling a little woozy. Gamzee himself was chatting animatedly with Miss Peixes about...about something. The music was kind of loud, that was it. He shut his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them, Vriska was sitting on his lap.  
>"Hey Tavvy!" She grinned at him as he yelped in surprise. Of course, he hadn't felt her sit down. He leant back in his chair, having only just resisted the urge to shove her to the floor in his surprise. He heard Feferi laugh. Vriska jigged up and down.<br>"My legs are tired. Wheel me to the bathrooms!" She slung an arm over his shoulder.  
>"Uh... uh..." He tried to form words, but his tongue felt numb. Even through the haze of alcohol, he could feel a panic attack coming on. Even worse, he was starting to feel sick. He tried to shove her in what he hoped was a 'get off me' fashion, but she hung on, the sardonic grin close to his face.<br>"Get off, please..." he mumbled, and felt her fingers pull the hair on the nape of his neck.  
>"Come on, Tavvy, don't be so selfish!" Tavros thought he heard Miss Lalonde say "Vriska, that's enough," but everything was swimming and all he could focus on was the lifeless glass eye only inches from his own.<br>Sudden movement, and when he refocused he saw Gamzee standing in front of him, Vriska over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. She yelped, and Gamzee smiled down at Tavros.  
>"Bathrooms was it? Okay chica. Can't be havin' you all up and tiring out your legs."<br>As he loped away with the protesting maths teacher, Kanaya leant forward and put her hand on Tavros' own.  
>"I do apologise for her, she can be so... Tavros? Are you all right?" Tavros nodded and mumbled about feeling sick. Kanaya frowned, and then looked at the half empty pint glass. She picked it up, and sniffed it.<br>"Rose, try this." She handed the glass to Ms. Lalonde, who took a sip and pulled a face. Tavros thought he heard a discussion about how Gamzee had been ferrying drinks, leaving the men's with Eridan and Vriska while he brought their own. He saw Feferi get up and march towards the bar, where Eridan still remained. Everything was blurred, but at least the rising panic in his chest was fading.  
>Tavros was looking at his own fingernails when Gamzee returned. Vriska had apparently disappeared into the crowd. Rose and Kanaya murmured with him a moment, looking over at Tavros with occasional concerned glances. Gamzee nodded; the smile that usually seemed permanent was gone from his face. <p>

Tavros looked up from his hands and into Gamzee's eyes.  
>"Feel like heading home, Tavbro? I gotta be up early an' all, so wanted to know if you were coming in my cab?" Tavros nodded gratefully, and made mumbled goodbyes to Rose and Kanaya as Gamzee piloted him towards the door. They passed Feferi and Eridan, who were arguing loudly.<p>

Tavros didn't remember much about getting home, except nodding off as soon as Gamzee had secured his chair into the taxi. He woke up in his own bed, clothes still on, head pounding. He looked around panicking, but his chair was parked next to the hand rails.  
>As he rubbed his eyes, he heard a clunk and a muffled curse from the kitchen.<br>"H-hello?" he called out. There was no answer.  
>His bedroom door opened just as he was lowering himself into his chair, and Gamzee leant in.<br>"Feelin' ok, Tavbro?" Gamzee smiled lightly as he saw the English teachers eyes widen. "I stopped on your sofa, hope that's chill. Just wanted to be up and makin' sure you were ok." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm real sorry about last night. Shouldn'ta been leavin' our wicked elixirs with Vris, didn't know she was gonna be all up and fortifying them." Tavros gaped at him.  
>"She... spiked my drink?" He groaned and rubbed his eyes as Gamzee nodded. The taller man sighed and padded across the room.<br>"I made you some breakfast, bro, it's in the kitchen. I gotta be getting my abscond on, though. Gotta change." He plucked at his ICP t-shirt, and Tavros nodded wearily.  
>"Thanks for looking after me, Gamzee..." He smiled up at him.<br>"Ain't even a thing, Tavbro."

After Gamzee had gone, Tavros ate his scrambled eggs, head pounding. They were actually rather good.


End file.
